


I can't face this life alone

by AbbyHolmes



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I had to write about them, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Messy confessions, starts where the show left off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 22:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19238689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbyHolmes/pseuds/AbbyHolmes
Summary: The body-swap has some unexpected life-threatening side effects for Crowley and Aziraphale does his best to save the demon he doesn't want to live without.





	I can't face this life alone

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the show, I fell hard for this ship. Had to write about those lovely idiots in love. And since I can never resist doing at least one hurt/comfort piece per fandom, I wrote one. There are so many amazing fics out there, I hope you enjoy my little piece. 
> 
> This is mainly based on the TV Show since I haven't finished reading the book.
> 
> Feedback is greatly apprechiated =)

**I can't face this life alone**

 

Aziraphale knew something was wrong just seconds after their toast to humanity.

Later, he would be angry with himself for not seeing the signs sooner. But for hours, everything had seemed perfectly fine. More than that, actually. Humanity and the earth were safe - at least for now - Heaven and Hell finally left them alone, the food at the Ritz was as heavenly as it gets. And Crowley was there with him, smiling the little demonic smile that made Aziraphale's heart flutter in his new body's chest.

 

But then Aziraphale blinked and when he opened his eyes again, he noted tiny drops of sweat forming on Crowley's forehead. 

"Everything alright, dear?", he asked with a frown as he watched Crowley wipe his forehead with a shivering hand.

"We just dodged the bloody apocalypse, angel. Of course everything's alright." 

The smile on Crowley's face suddenly seemed unstable and forced. Aziraphale saw him swallow with a tight jaw, his face turning pale. "Please don't be offended, Crowley, but you don't look like quiet well. Far from it, to be honest."

Crowley opened his mouth for a snarky reply, but instead of words, a thin line of blakish-red blood escaped his lips. The demon wiped it away and looked at his hand, flabbergasted. "Point taken. This seems a bit off."

"Oh no, my dear. This is definitely more than a bit off." Aziraphale hastily arose, miracled their bill and pulled Crowley on his feet and away from the curious eyes of everyone around them. The demon wanted to protest, but more blood flooded out of his mouth and so he just let Aziraphale pull him up and out of the restaurant, his steps wobbly and his vision blurring further with every step.

 

Outside, Aziraphale looked at him with concern shining in his big blue eyes. "What's happening to you? Are you injured?"

Crowley leaned back against the restaurant's wall, the earth seemingly shifting beneath his feet - was this Armageddon all over again? - and shook his head. "I think I'd know if I were." Aziraphale hesitated as he rose one of his hands, pointing at Crowley's chest. "Let me..." Crowley grabbed him by his wrist. "There's nothing for you to heal."

"You're bleeding. I must do something about it."

Crowley coughed, spitting blood on the pavement. The ache in his stomach that had been lingering for hours had finally taken a turn for the worst and Crowley had to pull all of his strength together not to scream. He let go of Aziraphale's hand and rubbed his chest, his jaw tightening further in visible pain. "You cannot miracle away a wound that you don't know of." Aziraphale swallowed. "I'm afraid you're right." He knew all too well that angelic healing power could just fix what was known to be broken. But Crowley didn't have any visible injuries and less than ten minutes ago, he'd been fine. What the heavens was going on here? Crowley coughed again, more horrible this time and the big lump of blood that landed on the pavement with a loud thud let Aziraphale's heart speed up in his suddenly very tight chest. The humans walking by started looking concerned, somebody mumbled something about getting an ambulance but Aziraphale doubted that human medicine would be of any good use to the demon.

 

Crowley was holding his stomach now, with his knees giving away under his weight and his body slowly sliding down the wall he'd been leaning against. Aziraphale knelt down, grabbing the demon’s shoulders, avoiding him from falling to the ground. The angel’s mind was racing and something pulled on his insides with a growing, burning ache. He tried to think but somehow all rationality had left him like air an old balloon. He knew he had to do something while Crowley huffed through gritted teeth, obviously trying not to moan or cry in pain. Aziraphale took a deep breath, remembering that humans often did that to calm down and miraculously, it worked.   
“Let’s get you to the bookshop, my dear.”  
Crowley refused the hand that was offered and looked up to the angel, his brows furrowed. “So I can die under a blanket of dust? I don’t think so.”  
“Stop saying that. You’re not going to die.”  
“You don’t know that.”  
Aziraphale shook his head, a stern expression on his face. “I won’t allow it. Come one now.”  
He looked down on his own hand still dangling in front of the demon’s face who finally took it and allowed him to pull him to his feet. Once Crowley stood, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning onto the angel for support and so they got moving with Aziraphale nearly carrying him over the street to the Bentley neatly parked at a no-parking-zone.  
“You’re not driving.” Crowley’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried enough disapproval for the angel to roll his eyes.   
“I’m afraid I’ll have to. You’re in no condition to drive.”  
“Do you even know how it works?”  
Aziraphale blinked in irritation while he miracled the Bentley’s doors open.   
“I am a fairly capable driver.”  
Crowley didn’t look convinced. “Satan help me.”  
“I don’t think he might have any interest in that after yesterday.”  
Crowley shrugged, slowly letting himself glide onto the passenger seat with the angel’s help. “You do have a point there.”  
  
It took Aziraphale three attempts to get the car started with Crowley coughing and wheezing next to him. But once the engine finally started roaring, the angel hit the gas pedal as hard as he could, steering the car through busy afternoon traffic as if he’d never done anything else. Crowley weakly nodded, his lips pursed. “And you say I’d go too fast for you. You don’t happen to have anything on you that I could throw up into? I don’t want to ruin the leather.”  
Aziraphale took one of his hands off the wheel, briefly waved and wished a bucket into existence just fast enough to let Crowley grab it and spit another wave of dark blood. Ignoring the fiery pain in his own chest, Aziraphale swallowed.  
“Nearly there. I’m sure I have something in the bookshop that will help us find out what’s wrong with you. You’ll be as good as new in no time.”  
Crowley didn’t answer straight away – he was busy retching – but when his head reappeared behind the bucket, he looked somewhat defeated. Taking a shuddering breath and swallowing, he opened his mouth and closed it again. Seemingly hesitating to say what he wanted to say.  
“In case I discorporate you should probably…”  
“That is not going to happen, Crowley.”  
Crowley wanted to protest, but his chest ached as he caught a glimpse of barely hidden desperation on the angel’s features. “Sure.”  
“Tell me how you’re feeling.”  
“Amazing. I feel great. It’s so much fun to throw up my intestines. What kind of a stupid question is this?”  
“I’m sorry. I meant your symptoms. Describe them to me. Maybe that helps finding the cause.”  
“Well I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m nauseous and I vomit. Blood actually. And my stomach feels like acid is…” he paused, gritting his teeth not to let a moan slip past his lips “burning me out of existence. I sweat and my head is exploding, I can barely see or breathe. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was…” He coughed again and Aziraphale’s eyes widened.  
“Holy water.”  
Crowley caught his breath and nodded. “Yes, but that cannot be. I haven’t been in contact with any. And if it was holy water, I’d be dead by now.”  
The car stopped in front of the bookshop and Aziraphale silently got out, rounded the car and helped Crowley out. The demon leaned even more on the angel than before and Aziraphale was tempted to just lift his thin, shivering figure into his arms and carry him inside but he knew Crowley would rather discorporate than allow this – or at least he thought he knew – and therefore slowly helped him into the Shop that had been imagined back into existence by Adam. He helped Crowley sit in his favourite chair in the backroom and knelt down before him, swallowing and trying to blink the tears gathering in his eyes away. He could sense Crowley’s pain now, feel its scared desperation pulling on the demon’s very existence and knew it truly must have been holy water. He’d known it the second Crowley mentioned the acid-like burning. He just didn’t want it to be true. Aziraphale slowly lifted his hands to take Crowley’s glasses off, ignoring his attempt to hold onto them and looked into the serpent’s eyes. Their eyes met and for once, Aziraphale didn’t look away. He held the demon’s weak gaze and forced his mind to search for answers. Had anyone tried to poison Crowley at the Ritz? It was highly unlikely, but possible.  
“When did the pain start, dear?”, he asked, his voice all soft and tender.  
Crowley shrugged, his lips twitching into a painful grimace as another wave of burning went through his entire being. “Some time after the body swap.”  
Aziraphale swallowed. “Why didn’t you say something?”  
Crowley took a shuddering breath and blinked. “I thought it was nothing.”  
The angel shook his head. “This is far from nothing, Crowley. If you discorporate, they’ll kill you down there.”  
“If it’s holy water, angel, they won’t have to.” The demon coughed again and Aziraphale handed him another bucket to spit into. He listened to the horrible retching escaping Crowley’s throat and felt a wave of panic creep up his back when he finally realized something. “Oh god” he sprang to his feet, clutching his hands against his mouth and took a few steps back. Crowley, looking up from the bucket and wiping his mouth on his jacket, furrowed his brows.  
“It’s okay Angel. I’m sure I will be fine…”  
Aziraphale swallowed at the sight of the painful half-smile Crowley had plastered on his features. He willed the tears in his eyes away with all his strength and shook his head.  
“I’m so sorry Crowley. This is all my fault.”  
“What the heavens….” Crowley wheezed again “…are you talking about?”  
“The body-swap. I…”, his voice nearly broke, “I think I made a mistake.”  
Crowley frowned. “What? No. It worked like a charm.”  
Aziraphale shook his head, kneeling down again and putting his hand on Crowley’s chest, feeling his heart weakly beat against his palm. Crowley felt a weird warmth flowing through him at the touch. Not quiet like the angel’s power but like something else. It was like not only the holy water was tugging at his soul now, but something else. Something purer. Something that didn’t hurt. He met Aziraphale’s gaze and raised his brows. “What are you doing, angel?”  
“I must have swallowed some of the holy water and when we switched back, it remained in your stomach.”  
Crowley blinked, his eyes struggling to focus on Aziraphale as he was starting to lose his grip on conscience. “Oh.”  
“I can fix it.” Crowley watched tears gather in the angel’s eyes again and something inside him ached in a different way than earthly pain. He resisted the urge to lift one of his shivering hands up to wipe away a tear that finally fell from the corner of Aziraphale’s eyes. “It’s okay, angel. It’s not your fault.”  
“I’ll make this alright. I promise.”  
Crowley felt the hand on his chest heat up and tried to wrestle away from Aziraphale’s touch. “You can’t.”  
“I know the injury now. I can heal it.”  
“Healing something this severe might kill you.” Crowley’s voice was a weak but gentle whisper. Aziraphale smiled a little.  
“It won’t.”  
Crowley shook his head. “But it can. We can’t risk that.”  
Aziraphale swallowed again, trying not to sob. “I’m not losing you.”  
Crowley forced a deep breath into his lungs. “We had quite nice 6.000 years, hadn’t we?”  
“This might hurt quite a bit.”  
“Aziraphale, stop.” The demon’s voice sounded more like an angry serpent’s hiss now. “I mean it, angel. Stop, or I’ll make you.” He grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and tried to shove it away, but the angel was way stronger than Crowley, who’s earthly body and demonic soul were still being burned away by the holy acid in his veins. Aziraphale rested a second hand on Crowley’s chest, a tender smile on his face. “Trust me, dear.”  
Crowley looked into those blue, shining eyes and his resistance slowly melted away under the gentle touch. His voice was barely even audible now. “Angel, please. You’ll kill yourself.” But the angel no longer listened. His gaze wandered down to Crowley’s chest and he closed his eyes, focusing on the task at hand.  
“Hold on, Crowley. Everything is going to be alright.”  
“No. No no no. Aziraphale! No!”   
He heard Crowley’s weak protests and felt his attempts of wrestling away from his healing touch, but Aziraphale didn’t move an inch. Focusing on the area he sensed as the radiating pain’s source in Crowley, he concentrated all of his power on healing every damage the holy water had caused in him. He felt something tug on his own being as Crowley’s pain transferred to him and everyone of his angel-senses wanted him to stop. He didn’t. Aziraphale ignored the black spots clouding his vision and the growing pain in his glowing hands. He didn’t care about Crowley’s attempts of escaping his touch. The angel just focused on the demon’s face that finally started regaining its colour just as he felt his power slowly running out. He sensed Crowley healing beneath his hands, felt how organs grew together again, bleeding was stopped and the holy water was drained from the demon’s body. Aziraphale’s heart grew lighter again in his chest as Crowley’s heartbeat normalized under his palms. His friend would live. The angel smiled as he felt the last of his powers fade away and everything went black.

“Angel!” Crowley held on to the hands he’d been trying to fight away seconds ago as Aziraphale collapsed and nearly fell to the floor. The demon, still sore but fully healed by now, let himself glide from the chair to grab the angel’s lifeless body, gently pulling it into his shivering arms. “What have you done, you bloody fool?”, the demon whispered, searching for a pulse on Aziraphale’s neck. Time seemed to stop when something finally, weakly pulsed against the tips of his fingers. He released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and pulled his best friend’s body closer, gently running his hand over Aziraphale’s back. “Come on, Angel. Pull yourself together.”  
But Aziraphale stayed still, his body dangling in Crowley’s arms like a broken doll. The pulsing under his fingers seemed to get even weaker. Something in Crowley’s chest shattered. “P-please, angel. Don’t…” his voice broke “leave me again. I beg you.”  
Crowley thought of any helpful miracle he could perform, but nothing came to mind. Demon’s couldn’t heal anyone. They had been made to destruct, not to save. Crowley cursed under his breath, self-hatred for is entire being flaring up inside his aching heart. He felt tears forming in his eyes and swallowed. He had only ever cried once since he had fallen from heaven or, to be honest, only once in his entire time of being. He couldn’t even remember having cried when he was still an angel. The only time he had ever cried in all those centuries was at this very bookstore, nearly at the same spot while everything around and inside him had been burning to ash. And although there was no fire here now, the world fell to ash right in front on him again. And so, he cried, not even caring anymore. He lifted Aziraphale’s limp figure up and carried him to the sofa in the corner of the backroom, placed a pillow under the angel’s head and collapsed on the floor. He stared at Aziraphale who still didn’t move and barely breathed and the flames inside his chest grew, burning a hole into his core. The pain caused by the holy water had been a walk in the park compared to this. “For someone’s sake…” he paused “come back to me, Aziraphale.”  
The angel stayed silent and unmoving. Crowley could sense his fading presence, decided nothing mattered anymore and did something no demon before him had ever even considered. He prayed.

“God? It’s me, Crowley. I know we’re not on good terms and everything…and I don’t know if you even listen to demon prayers. But if you do…save him. He did nothing wrong. He saved me, despite me being…” he paused “a demon. He sacrificed himself because he is too good for this world. You can take me instead, I don’t care. But please help him. Help me.” Crowley swallowed and looked around, but nothing happened. He closed his eyes and lay down on the floor, begging for sleep to take him, maybe forever. But sleep didn’t have mercy on him. Crowley heard himself sob and stared into the distance. The holy water had killed him in a way, after all.

Crowley couldn’t bring himself to look at Aziraphale’s lifeless body again, but he felt he wasn’t gone entirely. A part of him lingered in the old bookshop, refusing to die and keeping the tiny splinter of hope that held Crowley’s heart together, alive. Hours, or maybe days - the demon no longer knew - later, Crowley had started plotting to roam every possible church within reach for all the holy water he could get to just dissolve himself, something changed. The lingering presence in the room shifted. Crowley sensed some kind of worry around him. Something like righteous anger. He turned to look at the unconscious angel. His chest seemed to move a little more frequent than before. Crowley sprung to his feet. “Aziraphale?” A moan, barely audible, was the only answer. The demon blinked and let another tear fall on his own, shivering lips. “Are you there?” He grabbed one of the angel’s hands and felt it warm um beneath his touch. Unsure if he was hallucinating, he saw the hand glow slightly in his own and frowned. “What the…”  
He looked up to the angel’s face and saw his eyelids flutter. “Angel?”  
Aziraphale’s lips moved, forming a silent question and Crowley clutched his hand, moving his ear to the angel’s mouth. “Try saying it again, angel.”  
“Crowley?” It was barely a whisper, but it was enough to let a smile spread on Crowley’s face. “Aziraphale. I’m here.”  
“Are you alright?”, Aziraphale asked, his voice slowly returning to his old strength but his eyes still closed, “You sound a little off.”  
Crowley swallowed the tears in his voice and let out a laughter as the tight weight in his chest started to lift and the ashes of his heart slowly seemed to rebuild into a working organ. “What stupid question is this? You healed me, you fool.”  
Aziraphale finally opened his eyes, blinking in slight irritation before he turned his head to face Crowley, who was still kneeling beside him, clutching his hand and obviously blinking away tears. “What happened?”  
“I nearly died and you idiot saved me.”  
“I know that. But have I been…out of sorts?”  
The demon hesitated. Opening his mouth, mumbling something incomprehensible, then said: “You kind of were.”  
Aziraphale met Crowley’s gaze and saw reflected in his eyes the hurt he had felt when he’d thought the demon was dying. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”  
Crowley laughed again, his voice a little hoarse. “You didn’t.” Realizing he was still holding the angel’s hand, he let go of it and forced himself back on his feet while Aziraphale was sitting up. He went to pick up the sunglasses that had been lying abandoned at the other end of the room and put them on.   
“So I succeeded?”, Aziraphale said with a content smile while he stretched his stiff muscles.   
“You did. I’m as good as new.”  
Aziraphale’s smile grew wider. “Good.”  
Crowley crossed his arms in front of his chest, moving from one foot to the other as if he was standing on holy ground. “You don’t happen to have any alcohol stored away, do you, angel?”  
Aziraphale rose with a nod. “Of course I do.” He walked over to a shelf above his study and reached for two glasses and a bottle of his favourite wine.  
  
An hour of awkwardly silent drinking later, Crowley sat spawled on the sofa Aziraphale had been comatose on earlier and stared at the ceiling. Everything inside him wanted to tell Aziraphale how stupid he’d been, how it was completely inacceptable that he had saved him knowing the risks it bore. He wanted to tell Aziraphale to never do this again. To never risk his life for a stupid, worthless demon. At the same time, a huge part of him that he’d been trying to keep under control for bloody millenia wanted him to say something entirely different. Crowley ended up saying neither.

Aziraphale meanwhile stared into his glass, watching the liquid swirl as he moved his hand. He tried to sort his running thoughts, to make sense of the chaos inside his mind and soul and to calm the flame of anger burning inside him. He heard Crowley slightly shift on the sofa, watched him sip at his glass and readjust his sunglasses and swallowed. The burning anger grew into a flame. He put down his glass on his desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
“You know, I didn’t save you just for you to throw your life away, Crowley.”  
The demon sat up, startled. “What?”  
“I heard you mumble while I was passed out.”  
Crowley snorted. “I didn’t mumble anything.”  
“So you didn’t plan to drink holy water right after I had just removed it from your body?”  
“No.” Crowley watched the angel raise his brows. “Would I lie to you?”  
“Obviously.”  
“Because I’m a demon, I know.” Crowley wanted it to sound sassy, but it came out rather sad.  
Aziraphale hesitated. “Why did you consider it?”  
Crowley shook his head, fighting with himself to stay calm, but the hammering heart in his chest wouldn’t let him. Not after all this time. So he swallowed and looked to the floor, leaning on his knees.  
“Because you were gone. Again.”  
Aziraphale fumbled at the buttons on his vest. “No reason to kill yourself.”  
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, or, in this case, the demon’s self-discipline.  
“No reason to…” Crowley sprang to his feet, his hands curling into fists “…do you even hear yourself, you fool?”  
Aziraphale blinked at him, flabbergasted. “My dear, I have no idea what you…”  
“Why did you save me?”  
The angel swallowed. “I…am an angel. It’s what we do.”  
“Angel’s don’t save demons.”  
Aziraphale kneaded his hands, his gaze wandering restless through the room.  
“I had to.”  
“But why?” Crowley moved closer, making it impossible for the angel to escape his gaze.  
“It was my fault you were dying and I could not life with myself if you…” His voice died.  
“And you ask me why I considered drinking holy water after I thought that you died saving me?! For a righteous being you’re surprisingly hypocritical.”  
“Crowley….”  
“No.” Crowley shook his head. “I’ve had it up to here, Aziraphale”, he pointed to the roof, “I never asked you to save me. I wanted you to stop.”  
The angel shook his head. “I could have never let you die.”  
“Well neither could I. Do you even have the slightest idea how I…what it was like thinking that…I’d lost you? Again?”  
Aziraphale swallowed. “What do you mean, again?”  
“First I thought you died when this bloody bookshop burned down and then…”  
Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. “Oh…So when you said you lost your best friend…”  
“I meant you, yes! You idiot.” Crowley raked his hand through his hair, letting out a dry laugh. “But of course you don’t understand. You can’t even bring yourself to call me a friend after 6.000 years.”  
Aziraphale let his gaze drop to the floor. “I’m sorry, Crowley. I should have never…”  
“No. No, it’s fine, really.”  
“Crowley, I…”  
Crowley raised his hands to stop him. “Enough. It’s enough. I…I’ve had enough of this.”  
He put his glass down on a shelf and started walking towards the door leading to the front of the shop. Aziraphale watched him, fighting with the weird feeling tugging at his heart and his raging mind before he made a waving gesture and the door closed in front of Crowley’s face.  
Crowley turned around to face him, his face full of conflicted emotions.  
“Let me go.”  
Aziraphale shook his head.  
“I’m sorry for the way I…treated you. It…I was a horrible friend. But I am not going to apologize for saving you. I would do it again.”  
“Well I surely don’t want you to ever save me again.”  
“And I don’t want you to ever think about killing yourself again.”  
Crowley looked to the floor. “I wasn’t going to…”  
“You were.”  
Crowley leaned against the closed door and sighed, staying silent.  
“Why?”  
Crowley shook his head, moving his lips a couple of times without saying something before he finally forced the words his heart wanted so desperately to share out of his mouth. “I didn’t want to live without you.”  
Aziraphale swallowed, getting up on his feet and making a few steps towards the demon. His cheeks flushed, he looked at the eyes hidden behind the sunglasses and cleared his throat.  
“But why not?” His voice was a whisper carrying a permission that Crowley had been waiting for ever since the day the angel said ‘You go to fast for me, Crowley’.  
His heart skipped a beat and something fluttered inside his stomach.  
He closed the little gap between him and the angel until their chests nearly touched. He could feel Aziraphale’s heart beat against his own.  
“Because…” He took his sunglasses off, letting them fall to the floor “I love you.”  
Aziraphale blinked and for a second, Crowley thought he had finally destroyed everything. He was already getting ready to leave and prepare for a lonely life hidden away on Alpha Centauri for eternity, when he felt fingertips gently brushing against his own. His heart nearly stopped.  
Aziraphale’s mouth suddenly seemed incredibly dry and he was a little light-headed from the speed his pulse was suddenly pumping angelic blood through his body’s veins. A warm and fuzzy feeling spread through all his body and the endless doubts in his mind finally shut up. They were on their own side now. His fingertips touched Crowley’s and suddenly his whole body tingled as if he’d been struck by lightning. Their hands slowly, gently intertwined and Aziraphale moved even closer to the demon, their noses nearly touching. He felt Crowley’s chopped breath on his own lips and an unknown confidence build up in his stomach. He cleared his throat and smiled a beaming smile that no longer tried to hide anything. Their eyes met.  
“I love you too.”  
It took Crowley a split-second of disbelief and hesitation before his loving demon heart killed the rest of his control and let him lean forward. His hand gently pulling on the angel’s neck, he softly kissed his lips. It was like someone had lit a firework inside him that had been prepared to go off for 6.000 years. Aziraphale felt goosebumps spread all over his body and smiled against the lips pressing onto his. He grabbed Crowley by his hip, pulling him as close as possible and kissed back. One kiss became many kisses. Careful became longing. 6.000 years of hoping, fearing, waiting and pining unloaded themselves. Hands discovered neck’s and cheeks and backs and hips and everything within reach. After what felt like a blissful eternity definitely worth an apocalypse, Crowley took a step back, his cheeks flushed and his lips curved up into the biggest smile Aziraphale had ever seen on him.  
“May I tempt you for some dinner?”  
Aziraphale smiled.  
“Temptation accomplished.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The title is based on the Lyrics of Queen's "Save me"


End file.
